


flashbulbs

by saltandlimes



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rockstar Loki, bodyguard thor, loki hates paparazzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22058617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: After a long flight from Iceland to LA, there's nothing more Thor wants than to take a nap. Unfortunately, his duties as bodyguard to up-and-coming rockstar Loki Laufeyson comes first. When things take a turn, Thor learns that he doesn't just want a nap.Thor also wants to comes first.
Relationships: Loki/Thor, Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 220
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	flashbulbs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> For Kali, who has been the most patient ever.

Thor leads the way down the long corridor towards customs. He’s got both the carry-on bags rolling after him with a click-click every few seconds. His t-shirt sticks to his back, the leather too hot in the warmth of the airport. He’d take it off, but Laufeyson insists on him wearing it whenever they’re out in public and it’s not absolutely a million degrees out. Something about maintaining the right image for the fans. 

That’s all well and good, but he’s been too hot since half way through the flight to L.A., and the plane’s weak little air vent did nothing to help. Laufeyson had been sprawled out beside him, legs wide in his tight leather pants and head slumped over against the side of the huge first class seats. That annoyingly pretty face had been slack in sleep, and Thor had spent most of the flight looking pointedly away from him. 

They’re nearing the booths at customs, and Laufeyson pauses. Thor draws up short, looking back at him, and sighs. He’s rearranging his hair, tucking an errant strand into the messy bun high up on his head. He straightens his jacket, flicking the studs on the collar and then tossing his head a little. Thor holds back a yawn. It’s just like Laufeyson to want to make sure the he looks alright, if only for the agent at the border. 

“What are you waiting for?” Laufeyson snaps.

“Sorry. I was just…”

“Never mind. Let’s get this over with. I want to get to the hotel and go to bed.”

“You were asleep the whole flight,”

“Yes, and now I need a soft bed to make up for it.”

Thor sighs again. He rolls his shoulders and sets off towards the counter. They’re just lucky that there isn’t a long line. The one advantage of spending way too long in the Starbucks line is that most of the people have already filtered through immigration, and they only have to wait in line a few minutes before Thor is called up to the counter. Even so, Laufeyson spends the whole time tapping his foot, rolling his eyes as each person before them reaches the yellow line painted on the floor and crosses it to get their passport’s checked. Thor focuses on ignoring the shirt still sticking to his back. 

When he reaches the customs officer’s booth, he almost throws his passport across the table. The officer raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Business or pleasure?”

“Business,” Thor groans.

“Yeah? What kind?”

“Guy I work for is on tour in the States for the next six months.”

“That him?” The officer points Thor’s passport towards Laufeyson, where he’s tapping his foot, waiting for Thor to get through security. 

“Yup.”

“Looks like a real pill.”

Thor laughs. 

“Bet you make a pretty penny though,” the officer says, stamping Thor’s passport. Thor purses his lips, and shrugs. “Have a nice time.”

“Thank you,” Thor says. He steps out from next to the booths, joining Laufeyson on the other side.

“What was that all about?” Laufeyson asks.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

***

The doors out of customs slide open. There is a roar of sound that hits Thor like a wall. All about them are people, pressed up agains the flimsy metal railings and flanking the doors as closely as security allows. Laufeyson is already through the doors and waving. 

Thor sighs again. He tugs the bags through the doorway, then shoves them towards the Laufeyson’s personal assistant, Leah. He can’t be both porter and bodyguard at the same time, and she’ll manage for the few minutes that it takes them to get through the crowd. He lets a long breath out. At least, this time they’ve got staff picking up the rest of the luggage. Last time they were in the states, Thor had to listen to Laufeyson bitch and plead while Leah dragged each piece out to the bus one by one. 

“A signature? Mine?” Laufeyson leans over the barrier separating him from the crowd yelling his name. He reaches out, taking a magazine from a girl grinning at him. Thor sighs. He folds his arms across his chest, letting the leather of his sleeves stretch tight around his biceps. A few steps bring him up behind Laufeyson. 

“Ready to go, sir?” he says. 

“Shhh,” Laufeyson tells him over one shoulder. “I’m spending time with my fans.”

He hands the girl back her magazine, moving down the barrier towards another knot of girls holding out the “Rolling Stone” cover towards him. Thor purses his lips, trailing Laufeyson as closely as he can. There’s nothing between them and the crowd now except the thin belts stretched between poles that mark where the airport has made a halfhearted effort to cordon off the arrivals area. 

“Loki! Loki over here!” A few people yell from just past the girls Laufeyson is talking to. They’ve got cameras pointed his way, and when he smiles at them, there’s a blinding flash of light. 

Thor blinks hard, trying to clear his vision. There are far too many cameras about, and his eyes sting from the continued flashes. Laufeyson is still modeling for them, flashing his bright teeth at them and tossing his hair. The crowd surges forward towards them. 

“Laufeyson,” Thor calls out. 

There’s a moment when he turns back towards Thor. Then the crowd pushes forward even farther. The poles topple over, the belts between them doing nothing to hold back the people pushing forwards. A guy grabs at one of Laufeyson’s sleeves, and another girl tries to throw her arms around his waist. 

Laufeyson’s face goes white as a sheet. His eyes seeming even brighter with the dark of his eyeliner sharp against his pale cheeks. Thor swallows hard. There are far too many hands flying over Laufeyson’s thin limbs. 

A few heavy steps bring him up to where the crowd is trying to pull Laufeyson into their midst. He reaches forward, setting a hand on one of Laufeyson’s shoulders. 

“Back off,” Thor booms. He pulls Laufeyson closer, brushing at the hands covering his body. One of the men trying to grab Laufeyson’s sleeve growls up at Thor, clutching harder at Laufeyson. 

“Get off him,” Thor says again. He sets a thick arm across Lafeyson’s shoulders. A few slow, deliberate steps backwards, and he’s gotten Laufeyson out of hands reach. He unwraps his arm from around Laufeyson. “Stay here,” he hisses. Then he turns back to the crowd. Time to earn his paycheck. 

“Please disperse,” Thor says, trying to project his voice enough that he can be heard over the crowd’s chatter. “Mr. Laufeyson will not be signing any more autographs today. You can purchase signed copies online, or come to Mr. Laufeyson’s shows across the US. However, he will be leaving now. Please disperse.”

The crowd quiets a bit. There’s another flash of light, and then the click of cameras going off. Thor huffs. He backs away a little, making sure to keep an eye on the crowd as he finds his way to Laufeyson. 

“Come on. We’re going.”

Laufeyson is silent. When Thor glances at him, his face is still white, and his mouth is a little open. He stays close to Thor as Thor leads the way towards the exit, and to where he can see the tour bus waiting for them. Behind them, police officers gather, forcing the crowd to break up. Thor doesn’t look back. 

***

There’s a car waiting for them just in front of the bus. Thor grabs the door and yanks it open. Laufeyson stumbles in, tumbling across the seat to curl on one side. He presses up against the side door, curled in on himself. Thor slips in after him, slamming the door shut. A few words to the driver, and then he raises the privacy shield, shutting them away in the quiet of the back of the car. 

They pull away from the airport. Thor reaches into the middle console, pulling out a bottle of water. He offers it to Laufeyson. When he reaches out, his fingers tremble. 

“Are you alright?” Thor asks. 

“I’ve been better,” Laufeyson murmurs. He curls himself back into a ball, tucking his elbows in, and presses himself harder against the wall. Like this, he’s so much smaller than he seems. His hair hangs lankly around his face. In the shadows at the edge of the car, dark circles paint the space beneath his eyes. His eyeliner is smudged, and against his pale cheeks, his eyes seem holes in space. Thor swallows hard. 

“What’s wrong?” he manages to ask. 

Laufeyson is quiet for a moment. He looks over at Thor, his lips thin. Then he swallows, taking a sip from the water Thor handed him. 

“That’s never happened before,” he says.

“Usually there’s more security. And we don’t get startled. We know people will be there and we set up a better system for keeping them calm. It’s hard to do in an airport in the US though. The TSA likes to keep everything under their own control.”

“I just… Why would my fans do something like that?”

Laufeyson’s face is even paler now, and he presses himself deeper into the leather of the seat. Behind him, the city streams by, endless low houses and adobe storefronts. Its warmth does little to brighten Laufeyson’s dark eyes. 

“Don’t ask me,” Thor says. “I don’t even know why they like you in the first place.” 

Laufeyson barks a laugh, then presses his lips back together. A tear clouds one of his eyes, then drips slowly down his cheek. Thor’s stomach tightens. He’s never seen Laufeyson like this. Upset, yes. Screaming in anger, yes. But trying to hold back tears and choking on his words, never. Thor clenches his fists, then takes a deep breath. He slides across the bench seats, setting one hand on Laufeyson’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Thor says. 

“For what?” Laufeyson chokes out. 

“For not acting fast enough. For not having a better plan.”

Laufeyson looks up at him with watery eyes. He blinks a few times. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Laufeyson says. “Actually, you saved me.”

“From overenthusiastic fans?” Thor asks. Laufeyson is still shaking underneath his hand. 

“From having to disappoint them myself,” Laufeyson says. He laughs halfheartedly. “And yeah, from them. I didn’t realize… I just… people aren’t like that in Iceland.”

“We’ve got better planning in Iceland,” Thor tells him. 

“Whatever. You made me feel safe here, and that’s all that matters.” 

“I did?” Thor’s stomach turns over. Something about this feels different. Laufeyson’s pretty face staring up at him makes his cheeks heat. There’s a soft look in his eyes that Thor has never seen before, and an honesty to his voice that feels more than foreign. 

“Yes. I don’t think…” Laufeyson falls silent, pressing into Thor’s hand. 

“Didn’t think what, Laufeyson?”

“Loki.”

“Your name?”

“You should call me by it. You’ve been working with me long enough.”

“You’ve never wanted…” Thor starts. Loki uncurls a little, setting the bottle of water on the little wood-lined tray in the door. He leans in towards Thor, pressing himself into the curve of Thor’s arm. With Loki so close, Thor can feel that he is still shaking, his skin cold and a little clammy. 

“I was wrong,” Loki whispers. 

For a moment, Thor wants to joke, to tell Loki how shocked he is, to tell Loki that he’s never wrong. He wants to laugh, to tell Loki that it’s too little, too late. Instead, he pulls Loki just a little closer. 

“Loki,” he says. The name tastes sweet, as though his lips have been waiting to form it, and Thor swallows hard. He strokes his thumb across the sharp bone at Loki’s shoulder, letting Loki’s head drop down to rest against his chest. Loki’s hair smells of sleep and too much gel, of sweat and quiet. 

“Wish you weren’t wearing this jacket,” Loki murmurs. 

Thor laughs. This time, there’s no way to stop himself. 

“You’re the one who chose it,” he reminds Loki. 

Loki manages a chuckle, though it’s choked and a little broken. 

“And you look fabulous in it. Just the way someone around me should look. Doesn’t mean I don’t wish it wasn’t on.”

“That was a lot of negatives,” Thor says. He pokes Loki’s side. When Loki looks up at him, eyes watery but indignant, Thor grins. “I take it you like me with less clothing on?”

“I’m cold. You’re warm, and the jacket is keeping me from stealing all your warmth,” Loki grouses. He grins back though. 

“So all the time I was on the plane, burning up, I could have just taken off the jacket?”

“Nah,” Loki says. He’s smiling all the way now, the tears clearing from his eyes. 

“Why not?” Thor asks. 

“Didn’t want to cuddle with you right then.”

“So you want to right now?”

“Yes. You’re terribly dense sometimes, Thor.”

Thor feels something like a growl deep in his throat, but pushes it away. There is something here, something just out of reach that is wonderful and magical and new, and the last thing he wants is to somehow destroy it. 

***

They pull up in front of the hotel quietly. Loki stretches his arms out slowly, straightening up from the nest he’s made against Thor’s chest. He sighs. His breath smells like coffee, and Thor wrinkles his nose. He slides across the bench seat back to his side just as the driver opens up Loki’s door. 

“We’re here, sir,” the driver says. 

“Thanks,” Loki answers as he gets out. His eyes are puffy from crying, and his cheeks are flushed. Even with his dark hair and clothes, there’s something delicate about him, fragile. Thor gets out of his side as well, making his way a little more quickly than usual to stand just behind Loki on the curb. 

The bellhop comes to greet them, asking something about bags. Thor gestures him off with a quick wave of the hand. He ushers Loki towards the door with the other one. The last thing Loki probably wants right now is to have to talk to anyone, even if it’s only someone from the hotel staff. Thor glances about. Even worse than that would be if one of those photographers had followed them now. Thor can just imagine how horrified Loki would be if a photo of him right now showed up in some magazine. Luckily, though, there doesn’t seem to be anyone about, and Thor can hold open the door to the hotel for Loki without any flash from a bright bulb. 

Inside, Leah is waiting with the keys to their rooms. Loki grabs both of them, ignoring her question about how he’s feeling. 

“Come along, Thor.”

Thor trails after Loki. Usually, he’ll check out Loki’s room to make sure he knows where it is, but that’s on his own, and he doesn’t often go inside. Now, though, Loki presses the elevator button for his floor. Their ride up is quiet. Thor leans against the side of the elevator, arms crossed in front of his chest. He watches Loki’s thin, lithe body. Loki has one hand on his hip, and he’s staring back at Thor, lip between his teeth. 

When the elevator stops, Loki leads the way. His room is only halfway down the hall. Thor pauses when Loki unlocks the door, hanging back in the corridor. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Loki asks. 

“What is going on?” Thor asks. 

“Come on,” Loki says. He holds the door open until Thor steps in after him. 

Inside, the suite is enormous. There’s a full living room, with a beautifully plush couch, a glass coffee table, and a perfectly decorated little breakfast nook. The opposite wall is lined with windows, all looking out over L.A. and its multicolored lights. Loki shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch. One of his hands slips under his shirt, pulling it up to reveal a thin slice of pale skin. 

“What are you doing?” Thor asks him. He steps closer, reaching out a hand. He pulls it back, just before he grabs Loki’s wrist to try and pull his shirt down. Loki grins at him, his eyes sparkling. 

“Just getting comfortable.”

Thor bites his lip. Loki is playing a game, and he’s not sure he knows what the rules are. 

“Without your shirt?” he asks. 

“Yes. Haven’t you ever wanted to take off your shirt when you get home?”

Thor thinks back to how his t-shirt felt while their walking through the airport and laughs. 

“Desperately,” he says. 

“So why don’t you?” Loki asks. He slides his hands up his sides, the soft fabric of his shirt following them and leaving his pale torso bare. Black tattoos swirl across one of his shoulders. A snake wraps its coils across his arm and bares its fangs on his chest. A wolf rides in stylized glory down his chest. Silver shines in one of his nipples. Thor’s seen Loki undressed before, even naked while changing for a show. This time, though, it is deliberate, and when Loki settles himself onto the couch, arching his back with his arms above his head, it looks like an invitation. 

“Why don’t I what?” Thor asks. He’s starting to think he knows what game Loki is playing, but the redness still around Loki’s eyes make him wonder if there’s something more going on here. 

“Take yours off, then.” 

“You want me shirtless now? First it was that I had to wear the jacket, then you wanted to cuddle me, and now you want me naked?” Thor pushes a little, but makes sure to smile as he looks down at Loki.

“What can I say?” Loki asks. He sits up a little, his abs flexing and bending. “I’m a guy of many needs.”

“I’ve noticed,” Thor says. He sits down on the couch, just beyond where Loki has his legs stretched across it. “What do you really want, Loki?” he asks. 

“What do you think?” Loki fires back. 

“Can you just answer the question?” Thor says, his voice getting a little tighter. “You’re my boss, Loki. I don’t want to make any assumptions and get fired.”

Loki laughs. The sound trails off, and Loki sits up the rest of the way. He leans in, putting his hands on top of Thor’s where they’re clenched on Thor’s knees. 

“I want you to hold me again,” Loki says. 

“Is that all?”

“No. Not all.”

“I thought not. But Loki…” Thor trails off. Loki looks so beautiful sitting there, his hands on Thor’s knees, his chest rising and falling. 

“But what? Do you not want this? Do you not want me? I’ve seen where your eyes go, Thor. I know what you’re thinking when I’m on stage.”

“About how I hope no one trashes your set, or tries to kidnap you, or something.”

“Thor,” Loki huffs. “Don’t try to weasel out of this. Just admit it. You know you want to.”

“It’s not that simple, Loki,” Thor sighs. All he wants is to wrap his arms around Loki’s narrow shoulders, and hold him close, learn more about this sweet man who seems to be hidden away inside the singer he’s been working for all these years. 

“Because I’m your boss? Or because you don’t want the attention? Or because you’re not actually interested?” Loki fires the questions at Thor, each one whipping out after the other. 

“Because what if you decide you’re not interested!” Thor says, his voice going high. “Am I going to lose my job? Are you going to keep me on but make every moment a living hell? Will I even want to work for you?”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Not really. I mean, I have to, don’t I?”

“So what? Do you want to pretend this conversation never happened?” Loki’s shoulders crumple in on themselves. He wraps his arms around his waist. Like this, he looks even slimmer, drawn out and caught in his own armor. For a moment, Thor is caught, frozen in place, staring at Loki. 

His hands reach out before he has made a conscious decision about what to do. He takes Loki’s shoulders, pulling him close. Loki is cold against him. Thor folds him into his arms, burying his face in the long fall of Loki’s hair. 

“No,” he whispers. “No, I don’t.”

Loki slides his hands around Thor’s waist, drawing him even closer. His hands are cold, and his thin fingers trace lines across the hem of Thor’s shirt, then dip inside it to slide up Thor’s damp skin. He pushes Thor’s shirt up slowly. 

Thor gasps. Loki’s lips have grazed over his neck, and traced their way to his chin. Their brush is not quite a kiss, but Thor shakes as though a leaf in a sharp wind. He runs a hand up Loki’s back, burying it in Loki’s perfect hair. Loki’s skull seems to fit perfectly into his palm, and Thor marvels for a moment at the feel. Then he pulls away a little. It’s just far enough that he can look Loki in the eye. 

“Is this alright?” he asks. 

“I should be asking you,” Loki fires back. 

“Do you always feel like you need to answer a question with another one?”

“No,” Loki answers. His eyes soften, and Thor sees the flickers of the same soft, quiet man he is chasing after. 

“So is it?” he asks. He strokes Loki’s hair, keeping an arm around Loki’s shoulders. 

“Yes,” Loki whispers. One of his hands comes from behind Thor’s back. He cups Thor’s cheek. Loki’s thumb runs over his cheekbone and Thor finds himself shivering. 

There are flecks of gold in Loki’s green eyes. Thor has never seen them before, but now, he maps their curves and lines. The deep dark of Loki’s pupils is a wall that Thor feels as though he could fall into if given half the chance. He pulls Loki a little closer, and his eyes flick down to Loki’s lips. Loki’s pink tongue flicks out, and Thor traces its path with his gaze. 

“What about this?” Thor whispers. He leans in and presses his lips to Loki’s.

Sparks run along Thor’s skin, little shimmers of electricity unseen, yet felt throughout his body. Loki’s lips are soft, softer than velvet, and pliable. They work against Thor’s. Thor teases Loki’s mouth with his tongue, slipping inside and caressing Loki’s mouth. Loki’s fingers tighten on Thor’s cheek for an instant, then slide down to cup the back of his neck. 

They stay pressed together for long moments, exploring each other’s mouths and tracing the lines of each other’s bodies. Thor sets his hand on Loki’s side, fitting his fingers into the spaces between Loki’s ribs. In turn, Loki pulls and tugs at Thor’s shirt. He draws it up to just beneath Thor’s shoulders. That’s when they break away from one another. Loki scrabbles a little at Thor’s chest, trying to tug it away from him. 

“I’ve got it,” Thor says breathlessly. He pulls it off as fast as he possibly can, stretching the collar a little in the process. It hardly matters, though. All Thor can think about it getting his hands back on Loki. He grabs Loki’s waist, pulling him into his lap. Loki settles on Thor’s thick thighs, pressing their hips together. His weight is a welcome pressure. Thor grabs his hips, then slides one hand down to cup Loki’s leather-clad ass. 

“Ah, fuck, Thor,” Loki whispers. He arches his back, pressing into Thor’s hand. Thor feels his cock jump, pressing harder against his already tight jeans. He squeezes Loki’s ass, checking the soft heft and weight of it in his hand. Loki looks whip thin and hard when he’s on stage, singing and throwing coy smiles to his fans. But here, in Thor’s hands, he’s soft and pliable. Thor can dig his fingers a little into Loki’s ass, can bite and lick at Loki’s neck when he leans in. Loki squirms against him. 

Thor feels as though he could spend all day here, exploring Loki’s body, taking in the soft curves and sharp angles, mapping Loki so that his fingers will never forget the feel. The pressure in his jeans, however, is growing more insistent, and Loki’s squirms are becoming more and more enticing. 

“Do you want me?” Loki asks. His voice is hoarse, a rough rasp that makes its way over Thor’s skin. 

“Yes,” Thor hisses. He presses his hips between Loki’s legs. His cock hardens further as he feels Loki’s press against it. 

Thor runs one of his hands around Loki’s hips to rub the bulge in Loki’s pants. The waistband is stretched far too tight, the leather pulled so sharply that it cuts into even Loki’s thin waist. Thor flicks at the buttons that run down the front, teasing a finger between the gaps. 

“We should get these off you,” he says. Loki pants heavily into his ear, rocking his hips forward and rubbing himself against Thor’s thighs. 

“Yours too,” he moans. 

Thor groans. He lifts Loki off of his lap, setting him up on his feet and tugging at his pants. Loki jerks the waistband open, struggling to pull the leather away from his skin. Thor watches him. There is something incredibly enticing about how Loki squirms and lets out little grunts out of frustration. It’s a pretty display, a bare and vulnerable one. With the slide of the leather off Loki’s pale legs, the last of his shell slides away as well, and all that is left is the beauty of Loki himself. 

Thor stands in one sharp movement. He unbuttons his own jeans while staring at Loki. Loki’s cock rises from a pretty nest of dark hair. It’s flushed, hard and slim just as Loki himself is. A bead of precise at the tip glitters in the light of the hotel room. 

“Oh Thor,” Loki gasps. Thor has let his jeans and boxers fall to the floor, and stands naked before Loki. Beside him, Thor feels thicker and stronger even than normal, a powerful force. He takes the one step that brings him next to Loki. 

“Do you like what you see?” Loki asks. Thor reaches out. He sets his thumb in the notch between Loki’s collarbones. Loki flushes as Thor traces downward across his chest. He flicks the ring in Loki’s nipple, then strokes the sharp cut of his abs. Finally, Thor reaches the wiry tangle of hair surrounding Loki’s cock. 

“I do,” he murmurs. “I like it very much.”

His own cock is hard as rock, tapping against his belly as it jerks. Thor cups it with his free hand, squeezing and playing with himself as he starts to explore Loki. Loki groans as Thor smears precise across the head of his cock. His hands fly out, and Thor finds them cupped around his ass with hardly any warning. He gasps, throwing his head back to moan. Loki pulls him closer, squeezing Thor’s thick ass. 

“Fuck, Thor,” Loki gasps. He bucks his hips, and Thor finds their hips meeting, their cocks brushing for the first time. “You are so fucking hot.”

“You just noticed?” Thor manages to ask, even as he bucks his hips against Loki’s.

“Hell no,” Loki says. “It’s pretty fucking obvious.” Loki slaps Thor’s ass, sending a shudder of lust shivering through Thor’s whole body. 

Thor laughs. He kisses Loki’s nose, butterfly pecks that have Loki laughing with him. Loki slaps his ass again.

“You like my ass?” Thor asks. “Because yours is just perfect.”

“Bet you want to be inside it. I bet you would like that, Thor. Fitting your thick cock into my little hole and just spreading me wide, holding me open and pounding me. Bet you’d fuck me so good, screwing me better than anyone.”

Thor groans. His chest is flushed and his cock is harder than it’s ever been before. He cups the back of Loki’s neck, holding tight. 

“You’ve got a nasty mouth on you,” he tells Loki. 

Loki flashes a bright smile. He pulls back, just enough that Thor has to let go of him. Then, in one swift movement, he kneels. 

“Want to test it?” he asks Thor. 

Thor feels his breath stop. His heart pounds in his chest. He reaches out to brush a lock of hair back from Loki’s forehead. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“Thor, if you don’t get your dick between my lips in the next few minutes, I will be very disappointed,” Loki tells him. His voice is deadly serious, but a smile tugs at his lips. It’s that smile, more than anything else, that settles things for Thor. He leans a little forward, setting the tip of his dick against the bow of Loki’s mouth. Loki’s tongue flicks out, tasting, touching. Thor gasps. 

Loki’s skin may be cool, but when his mouth closes around the tip of Thor’s cock, it’s a furnace. Thor groans as Loki takes him deeper. Loki’s hand is back on his ass, caresses in time with the slide of his lips up and down Thor’s cock. He sucks steadily at it, drawing Thor into a spiral of lust and need. 

“Oh, Loki,” he moans. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

Loki laughs around Thor’s cock. His fingers trace into the crease Thor’s ass, tracing down to just above his hole. Then he pulls back from Thor’s cock. Thor whimpers, but Loki doesn’t take him in again. 

“Is this ok?” Loki asks.

“Yes, yes, please,” Thor finds himself saying. He’s desperate for more, needs to feel Loki touching every part of him, caressing every inch of him that he can reach. Through his slitted eyes he can just see Loki’s grin. Then Loki sets himself back to sucking Thor’s cock. As he swallows Thor back down, his fingers tap and trace across Thor’s hole. Thor’s eyes roll back. He pants, openmouthed, as Loki plays with him. He has never been so turned on. 

He wishes he could hold on longer, stretch this moment out forever. He wants to look down at Loki’s stunning face, at his cock moving in and out of Loki’s mouth, and never look away. He can’t wait, though. Thor presses forward, moaning. His balls draw up, and he arches his back. When he tugs at Loki’s hair to try to let him know that he’s about to come, Loki only starts to suck harder. 

Thor comes in a rush of heat and sensation. His heart pounds in his ears, his whole body arching and trembling. He’s caught between Loki’s fingers on his hole and Loki’s mouth on his cock. Loki sucks him dry, till all Thor’s cock can do is twitch as it softens between his lips. 

“Fucking hell, Loki,” Thor gasps. He collapses back onto the couch, legs spread and sweat standing out on his chest. In front of him, Loki’s own cock still stands proud between his splayed legs. 

“Come here,” Thor tells him. When Loki struggles to his feet, Thor grabs his waist, pulling him back onto his lap. He brushes a kiss across Loki’s cheekbone, then reaches between his legs. Thor gasps as Loki’s cock twitches in his hand. Loki rocks against him, his legs splayed around Thor’s hips. He works himself into Thor’s hand, his hips twitching and jerking as he lets out little moans. 

“Come on me,” Thor says. “Show me how pretty you are when you come.”

Loki grabs Thor’s shoulder, pressing himself into Thor’s hand a few more times. Then he comes over Thor’s hand. He’s trembling in Thor’s lap, come hot as it pours across Thor’s hand. When he finally relaxes, he slumps against Thor. Thor reaches up and strokes Loki’s hair, tucking the strands behind Loki’s ears. 

“Good?” he whispers. 

“Perfect,” Loki answers. He’s soft and pliant against Thor’s chest, and when Thor slumps over onto the couch, Loki follows. He settles himself against Thor, tucking his head just below Thor’s chin. He’s a sweet blanket, covering Thor just enough, his weight comfortable. His questions from before still tickle the back of Thor’s mind, but as he drifts off with Loki settled against him, they hardly seem to matter. All Thor needs, at least for now, is this.

**Author's Note:**

> +Find me on[twitter](http://twitter.com/saltandlimes) and [tumblr](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


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